


Forward

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12780852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: All that Madara thought he was doing today was watching a bit of sports with a friend. He didn't expect his past to come running back to him - especially not in such a literal way.





	Forward

The moment they arrived Madara remembered why he wasn’t a big fan of attending sporting events: they were always so loud. The game wouldn’t start for another half hour but some of the people here had arrived over an hour ago to secure good seats. Luckily for Madara his friend had somehow procured two tickets for front row seats that were waiting for them in a cordoned off area. They would have been sitting right on the edge of the field if not for the front row being set on a small raised platform and he supposed there wasn’t much need for them to come early when there was no danger of losing their spot to someone else. Besides, the game was in their home town so it wasn’t like they had to come here just to get out of a boring hotel room.

Soccer wasn’t Madara’s favorite sport but he did enjoy watching the occasional game. He didn’t bother keeping up with who was on what team, all he cared to check was who was going to finals each year and which team took the cup. The team he usually rooted for had been beaten last year by the team they had come to cheer on today and while that did rankle a bit he found that hometown pride took a lot of the sting out of it.

“Great turn out today,” Hashirama called over the noise around them. Where Madara was only a casual fan, his friend travelled across the country to be at every single game the Konoha Hurricanes played. Since most of his job was done through conference calls that could be taken anywhere in the world, the only thing this affected was when his wife preferred not to travel with him. Madara didn’t know how he could spend so much of his life on the road just for a sports team but he was hardly about to tell another man what to spend his passions on.

“We didn’t even get any snacks,” Madara noted. “Isn’t that a _thing_ at sporting events? Hot dogs and peanuts or some shit?”

“You’re thinking of baseball.” Hashirama laughed, then dug around in his pocket and tossed the other man his wallet. “Good idea though. I’ll be here if you wanna go grab us some sodas and something to nibble on.”

Madara grumbled about being used as a fetch-boy but held the wallet in a firm grip as he stalked away, back up the stands they had just climbed down. Despite being fairly well-off himself, his friend made a _lot_ more money than he did and Madara felt no shame in spending it whenever Hashirama offered. The big bleeding heart always did say that he liked nothing more than making his precious people happy. Well, Madara was happy when someone else bought him his snacks.

Fifteen minutes later he returned with two giant sodas and an armful of different kinds of junk food. He was actually kind of amazed that the lines hadn’t been longer but supposed that most people were eager to get to their seats now that the game was soon to begin. Hashirama greeted him back enthusiastically and immediately snatched the gummy worms.

Settling down with his pretzels, Madara listened with half an ear as his companion nattered on about the odds of the game and who the main opposition was for the Hurricanes to look out for. It was fairly amusing to see how deep in to all this he truly was. Madara preferred his research projects, which kept him snug inside and glued to a dusty book most of the time. He enjoyed history, so sue him. Others might find his passion boring but he didn’t care; that just meant he didn’t talk to those people. Simple.

A loud voice over the stadium-wide sound system announced that the players would be joining the field in just a moment, eliciting a thunderous response from the fans gathered in the stands. Hashirama whooped and dug around in the backpack he’d brought with him. Madara was baffled to see him pull out a giant rainbow flag. What possible use could he have for that here?

The crowd went wild as the home team appeared, pulling Madara’s eyes over to the line of small figures coming out from a break in the stands along one side of the field. The announcer named each player one by one and almost at the exact second that Hashirama exploded in to motion beside him he could have sworn he heard the name “Senju” as the home team forward. When he looked up to see what the commotion was he found Hashirama screaming his head off and waving his rainbow flag. Fluttering through the air, it was nearly as tall as he was.

“ _And there’s the **other** Senju, folks, as punctual as always!_ ”

“ _That’s right Kotetsu, and there goes our Senju to complete his pregame ritual. Here’s hoping it gives him just as much good luck as always!_ ”

Madara’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead as he listened to the announcers’ banter. What?

One of the players was indeed breaking away from their team, heading straight towards the beacon of Hashirama’s ostentatious flag. The closer he came the more dread settled in the pit of Madara’s stomach. He knew that coloring. He knew that man. What he hadn’t known was that he had apparently started playing professional soccer.

Tobirama’s face was as expressionless as ever as he jogged over towards his brother but his eyes were warm with an open affection Madara might not have thought him capable of. When he reached the edge of the platform Hashirama met him and leaned down over the railing. Rising up on his tiptoes, Tobirama tilted his face upwards and closed his eyes for Hashirama to bestow him with one soft kiss in the center of his forehead.

When his heels touched the grass again the warmth had spread from his eyes to sprout the tiniest of smiles, hovering at the corners of his lips. Hashirama started waving his flag madly again while his sibling turned and headed back towards his team. Overhead, the crowd was aww-ing and the announcers were chattering about the newest members of the Konoha Hurricanes, the promising new striker Namikaze Minato. Madara just sat there reeling back and forth, stunned.

“Since when does your brother play professional soccer!?” he demanded as soon as Hashirama had regained his seat, flag now draped about his shoulders like a brilliant cloak.

“Uhm, since a few years ago? Why did you think I started going to all of their games?” Hashirama’s tone had that implied _duh_ quality to it which said he thought Madara should pay more attention, but he couldn’t even think of the last time they spoke so much as half a conversation about Tobirama. Not since the time both of their younger brothers had gotten in to a fistfight over thanksgiving dinner and declared a feud between their families. Naturally, both older brothers ignored said feud and did their best not to discuss that day.

“Whatever. Okay. So…what’s with the kissing thing?”

It was hard to be make himself heard over the noise of the crowd and Hashirama’s reply was briefly interrupted by the cheering when the opposing team took the field as well. Madara waiting impatiently until finally his friend leaned over to speak directly in to his ear.

“It’s his good luck charm! Every game I’ve ever gone to and kissed him good luck they’ve either won or only lost by a couple of goals!”

Now, Madara might not be a fanatical sports fan, but he did know that professional athletes tended to be quite a superstitious bunch. If they thought something was lucky then that thing became sacred. Suddenly it made a lot more sense for Hashirama to be tramping all across the country and flying out to others just to go to a few soccer games.

After that, conversation became even more difficult and Madara settled in to watch with the rest of them. He found that, despite wherever the ball actually was, he mostly couldn’t keep his eyes off of Tobirama. The team colors of white and blue looked damn good on him, no matter how Madara tried not to notice. It had been a long time since they saw each other but he looked just as delicious as he used to back when Madara had a raging crush on him. Apparently he hadn’t gotten over that as much as he’d thought he had.

Keeping his eyes on Tobirama did have its bright sides. The way he moved was fluid and a great treat to watch all on its own, soccer be damned. When he had the ball underfoot the look of concentration on his face coupled with the sweat dripping down his skin was enough to give Madara fantasy material for the next several months.

The game seemed to last for an eternity, although it ran no longer than a typical game of soccer. Both Tobirama and the new team member Namikaze were on fire that day, an unstoppable team scoring goal after goal until there was no chance in hell of the opposition even catching up, let alone winning. It was total annihilation and the fans were loving it. Hashirama certainly added his own voice to the wild screams that rent the air with each goal. Madara stayed in his seat for fear of standing revealing that he was actually hard just from watching a hot man run back and forth across a soccer field.

In the end the Konoha Hurricanes cleaned up with eleven goals to the opposition’s two. The sound from the stands was almost deafening and yet, still glued to his seat, Madara found himself grinning widely and cupping his hands around his mouth to holler his own approval as the players left the field. Hashirama danced a victory jig and spun his flag through the air, making a spectacle of himself and not caring a single whit. Madara let him have his fun.

He thought they might go home straight after but once Hashirama finally dragged him upright his friend led them through a few back hallways underneath the public seating. It wasn’t until he was standing eye to eye with an incredible mountain of a man that Madara realized where they were headed: the locker rooms.

The last thing he expected was for the mountain man wearing too much green to light up like a Christmas tree.

“Hashirama! Welcome, welcome!”

“Hello Gai!” Hashirama wiggled his fingers in a cheerful wave.

“Your beloved brother is within! Have you come for a most youthful congratulations?”

“Yup!”

“How touching!”

Despite evidence that this was probably a regular occurrence, this man Gai still had tears in his eyes and a wibbling lip as he opened the door to let them pass. Madara eyed him judgmentally while they passed. Then he got a good look at the room inside and nearly swallowed his own tongue. Hashirama had to pull him in by the sleeve.

Not a single man inside was wearing a shirt and every one of them was sweaty from exertion. Obviously this was the portal to heaven and Madara was being delivered in to the arms of angels.

Or, so he thought until his eyes fell upon the most glorious of them all. Miles of pale white skin glistened under the halogen lights as Tobirama twisted from side to side, working out a kink in his back. His head was turned to speak with one of his teammates, Hatake something, giving them both a view of his gorgeous profile and the droplets making sinful paths down his temple. Madara whimpered as Hashirama pulled him forward.

“Brother! You were amazing!”

Tobirama turned just in time to catch the hug that would have knocked him backwards over a bench without the way he braced his legs at the last second. “Thank you, Anija,” he mumbled, voice rumbling own Madara’s spine with a shivery sensation.

“You’re still coming for dinner right? You said if you won you would come over and we could celebrate with dinner!” Hashirama pulled back just to clasp his hands pleadingly. “Please? Mito said she was making your favorite!”

“Have I ever said no to Mito’s homemade sushi?”

“Homemade sushi!” The man he’d been talking to piped up as he toweled off his chest. “Any room at your table for one more?”

“Back off, Sakumo, you’ve got your son to go home to! Poor little me is all alone. You should bring _me_ home for dinner, Tobes!” The player who spoke had honey colored hair down to his shoulders and a toothpick between his teeth. Madara didn’t like the look of him. He looked like a playboy.

Laughing, Hashirama rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry boys! Extra seat already taken!”

With a casual wave of one hand he indicated Madara, who crossed his arms and glared back at all the curious eyes now staring at him in question. Tobirama looked far from curious, he was red in the face with anger when Madara looked back, an accusing finger shoved in to his brother’s chest as he whispered rapidly and angrily under his breath. Hashirama took it in stride, laughing and loudly proclaiming that everything would be fine.

Tobirama eyed Madara suspiciously one more time before turning away with a huff and reaching for the towel inside his locker. He sent his brother away with gruff words, insisting he would shower here and head home for a decent change of clothes before heading over. Instead of taking offence at his behavior, Hashirama smiled brightly and flounced away, calling goodbyes to the rest of the team one by one. They each said goodbye in return with varying levels of enthusiasm. The most enthusiastic was the mountain man outside, Gai, who teared up again as they were leaving.

Cheerful and oblivious as though nothing at all were wrong, Hashirama whistled a lilting tune while they strolled out towards the parking lot to find their car. Madara frowned to himself and kept his silence until they were nearly halfway back to the Senju family home.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” he asked finally. “Your brother detests me. We haven’t seen each other in years but it’s obvious his distaste for me has not cooled in the slightest. Should I not go home and let you celebrate as a family in peace?”

“Nonsense! Tobirama doesn’t hate you!”

“Hmph. Could have fooled me.”

Hashirama made a rude noise with his mouth. “You’ll be fine. I think you’ll find that his opinion is quite the opposite of what you think it is.”

Unconvinced, Madara slid down in his seat and returned to silence.

Once they arrived and it was made clear that Mito had already been expecting two guests for dinner – not at _all_ suspicious, that – Madara only had about forty-five minutes to gather his calm about himself before Tobirama arrived. The younger Senju came bearing a bottle of wine and the smile he wore for Mito slid away in an instant as he turned to their other guest, face returning to its usual cool indifference.

“Uchiha,” he said shortly.

“Senju,” Madara mocked him with the slightest tones of sarcasm. Tobirama narrowed his eyes and Madara did the same.

Their brewing argument was broken up before it could even properly begin when Hashirama stepped between them, popping cupboards open and loudly asking Mito where she had moved the wine glasses to this time. He might act the oaf a lot of the time but then there were moments like these where he used his penchant lack of subtlety to his own advantage and it made Madara wonder how much of it was just a show.

Dinner was a calmer affair than he would have expected, largely because he and Tobirama both pretended the other was not even present and contained their conversations to the ones hosting this lovely meal. On his part, Madara had no desire to reawaken the erection he had finally gotten rid of on the drive here, especially not for a man who harbored such intense dislike for him even after years of not seeing each other. It was easier to do that if he refrained from looking.

Once dinner was over he used the first opportunity he had to slip away to the bathroom just to have a moment alone. In a bid for some extra privacy he even tiptoed all the way to the upstairs bathroom. Since he was there he relieved himself just because it felt weird to stand in a bathroom and not do so but for the most part he simply leaned his ass against the sink and buried his face in his hands, wondering how he could possibly escape this awkward situation without offending Hashirama and making him cry. The man was so ugly when he cried. And so clingy.

Besides the escape plans, a small part of him was also wondering what he had ever done to earn such visceral dislike from Tobirama. Sure they had snipped and snarled at each other when they were younger but it had been so long since then they were both probably entirely different people now. Certainly he wasn’t the same person he’d been in college. It was almost hurtful that Tobirama couldn’t even be bothered to take the time to get to know the real him before deciding to pick up his hatred where he had left off before.

When he’d been in the bathroom for so long it might soon become suspicious, Madara decided it was time to face the wolves again. He opened the door, fiddling with his shirt to make sure it was all tucked in, and stepped out in to the hallway.

Tobirama caught him only a moment before they would have collided, strong hands holding his biceps and wide eyes blinking at him in surprise. Madara blinked back.

“Sorry,” he murmured reflexively. Tobirama arched a brow.

“Well would you look at that. Not too proud to apologize after all.”

Madara scowled and deep inside he felt something snap. He’d never had much patience anyway.

“What is your _problem_?” he growled. “I haven’t done a damn thing to you, Senju. We haven’t even seen each other since I graduated and moved back home. You have no reason whatsoever to hate me so _why do you hate me so much_?”

“No reason?” Tobirama scoffed and rocked back on his heels, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s rich.”

“Absolutely none that I can see. But please, do tell me what big wrong I’ve supposedly committed against you!”

“Did you perhaps forget how much of a massive insensitive dick you were to me back then?” Tobirama jutted one hip out in what was probably meant to be a pose filled with attitude. Unfortunately Madara’s brain chose to see it as sexy, which was a little distracting. “Don’t pretend you didn’t stomp all over my feelings every damn chance you had for no other reason than to rub it all in my face.”

Madara shook his head to clear it, baffled. “What are you talking about?” Tobirama rolled his eyes.

“Don’t play innocent. We both know you were perfectly aware of the feelings I had for you and we both know that you brought home every date you possibly could just to show me what I could not have. My brother took you in and we treated you and Izuna like family – and you repaid that kindness with childish flaunting and general dickheadedness.” The frown on his perfect, pretty lips turned down even more as he looked away, something like grief hanging in his eyes. “Izuna told me everything I needed to know.”

“Izuna!?” Madara blinked rapidly, trying to keep up with everything being thrown at him. “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that fight you two had over Thanksgiving dinner, would it?”

“Obviously!” Tobirama growled. “He told me all about how you would never return my feelings and how apparently everyone could see that I wasn’t worth your time.”

“I – that’s – you – but – I didn’t _say_ any of that!”

Both men stared at each other in surprised silence for a few moments, each other them equally startled by Madara’s outburst. He felt, however, that he had every reason to be a little shocked. Where was all of this even coming from? Everything that he’d just heard was big news to him.

For his part, Tobirama was confused. How could Madara stand there and claim not to have said any of that? It made no sense to him and he wasn’t shy about saying so.

“Then how do explain your behavior towards me? You were always glaring at me from across the room and walking away whenever I tried to speak with you!”

“I had a massive crush on you and I had no idea how to deal with it.” As galling as it was to admit, it was better than leaving the man with the false impressions he had gotten before. “I’m not the most socially inclined and you were the first person I ever felt sort of seriously for. I had no idea how to speak to you and it frustrated me – and embarrassed me, which frustrated me further.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell as they stared at each other again, neither very sure what to say. It was a relief for both parties to finally have the truth of the matter and realize that neither of them hated the other. Yet it was also sort of mind-boggling to realize that they had both been a little bit in love with each other back then and neither of them had known. Somehow instead of sharing their feelings they had both ended up with the exact opposite impression. Just their luck, really.

Madara cleared his throat awkwardly. It occurred to him to wonder how Hashirama hadn’t come looking for him yet. Even if his friend hadn’t noticed how long he’d been missing for, Mito surely had. The woman had a scary eye for details and there was no way she wasn’t counting down the seconds until she could question what the hell had taken him so long.

“So…” Tobirama bit his lip and looked away, discomfort obvious in every line of his body. “You don’t hate me. And I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t? To be honest I’d gotten the impression that you’d fallen right back in to that as soon as you saw me in the locker room.”

“Ah. No. I was embarrassed to see you there. Hashirama was mumbling some nonsense about finally taking a chance and I was just, er, hoping you couldn’t hear him. I didn’t want you to have more material to mock me for.”

“Wait.” Madara’s eyes widened until they resembled saucers. “You don’t…you don’t _still_ …”

“Shut up!” Tobirama snapped.

Madara swallowed thickly. In the back of his mind he could almost swear he heard a chorus of angels urging him onward, like some divine being were winking at him over a really great joke.

“You still have feelings for me,” he breathed in wonder. Tobirama made a noise of disgust and moved as though to step past him. Madara caught his arm desperately. “Wait, no! I – me too! I still feel the same too.”

Tobirama froze. “You what?”

“I thought I’d been able to bury it by dating other people and moving back home but seeing you again…brought it all back. Apparently I’m not as over you as I thought I was. You know what they say,” he chuckled nervously. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all of that.”

“That’s a stupid cliché.”

“Then why do you look so pleased?” Madara smirked as a sliver of his natural confidence returned to him, then smirked wider when he saw how the other man’s eyes were drawn to his lips. He really hadn’t expected anything more out of today than a half-boring soccer game but damn if he wasn’t really glad to be proven wrong.

“I thought I told you to shut up.” Tobirama’s words lacked any harsh bite as his mouth curved to mirror Madara’s smirk.

“Make me.”

A childish riposte perhaps but it had just the effect he thought it would. Tobirama was on him in an instant, crashing their mouths together and using strong hands to guide him backward by the hips until he thudded against the wall. Madara nearly melted as the younger man devoured him, kiss by kiss, and he didn’t have a chance in hell of stopping the pleased groan that clawed its way up out of his throat. Tobirama nipped his bottom lip in rebuke.

“Keep those quiet for now,” he murmured. “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us downstairs.”

Easier said than done, in Madara’s opinion, especially when nimble fingers began to pop open the buttons of his shirt. Tobirama’s kisses made their way down his neck, not even trying to stifle his sounds even though he’d just told him to be quieter. As soon as Madara felt a hand caressing his chest he arched and moaned again, pressing up in to the touch and gripping at the other’s shoulders like a lifeline. The movement pressed their erections together to reveal how hard they both were already and he shivered when Tobirama growled in response.

One of the hands on his hips released him in favor of blindly feeling around behind his back. That was when Madara discovered that it wasn’t a wall he had fallen against but the bathroom door. He stumbled backwards when it swung open and Tobirama followed him in, guiding the door closed again with a gentle heel.

An old soccer jersey which read _Konoha Hurricanes_ hit the bathroom floor, tangling their feet and sending them crashing in to the sink. Madara grunted on impact, then gasped as large hands returned to his hips, pulling apart the sides of his own shirt to make way for a hot mouth to lavish attention on his chest. A few garbled, disconnected syllables fell from his lips when he felt teeth pulling at one of his nipples. Everything felt hyper sensitive, as though his body had been waiting for this man’s touch specifically.

“Have I mentioned how much I approve of your career choices?” Madara heard his own voice mumbling, eyes riveted on the dips and swells on the muscle covering Tobirama’s torso. He kept decently in shape himself but nothing like the sculpted athlete before him. His companion chuckled.

“I’ll keep that in mind for when you start to complain about it later.”

It took a few moments to realize what he meant by ‘later’. He meant later in their relationship. Madara closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, blindly searching and nudging until Tobirama met him in a kiss. Just the idea of what was happening right now was enough to blow his mind; the thought of an actual relationship after years of convincing himself it was never going to happen threatened to overwhelm him. And an overwhelmed Madara was a distracted one.

He felt it when the hands on his hips tightened and pulled but he certainly wasn’t expecting to be spun around until he was facing the mirror, his partner immediately stepping close again to plaster himself against Madara’s back. Fingers traced pointless lines on his stomach, drifting down in teasing increments as their eyes met in the mirror. Tobirama’s gaze was so hot it threatened to burn him, holding him captive as the younger man dipped his head to nibble at Madara’s ear and trail more kisses along the top of his shoulder.

There was no warning before suddenly one of those wandering hands dropped down to cup him through the strained material of his trousers.

“Next time, I want to taste this,” Tobirama whispered in his ear. “I want to swallow you down and taste your cum on my tongue.”

“Fuuuuck…” Madara twitched under the hand slowly grinding in to him, already panting as he instinctively ground himself back on to the other man’s erection. He was satisfied to watch those red eyes flutter over his shoulder in pleasure.

“I would tell you to have patience but I find I have none myself anyway.”

Almost as though to illustrate his point, Tobirama released his grip and brought his other hand around to undo Madara’s trousers, all but tearing them open and yanking them down. If they were in Madara’s home the mirror over the sink would have shown only their faces. He was infinitely grateful that they were here instead. The three giant mirrors which had always seemed excessive to him before were a boon now, granting them both the perfect reflection of Tobirama’s hand curling around Madara’s cock, sliding down and back up a few times to weaken his already weak knees.

Madara braced himself against the counter top to stop himself from falling down, distantly registering that one of his partner’s hands was no longer touching him but rummaging through a drawer instead. A light thump had him looking down to see a small bottle of baby oil. Really there could only be one reason his partner might be looking for that and he released a quiet hiss of agreement as that hit him, jerking with one leg until his trousers fell the rest of the way down to the floor.

Tobirama wasted absolutely no time, for which he was grateful. He pushed back against the first touch until a single finger slid inside him, tearing a groan from him as he tried to press back even father.

“More,” he whimpered mindlessly.

The other man didn’t answer, only gave him what he asked for. That single finger sank in to him up to the second knuckle, gliding in and out a few times to spread the oil around before a second finger joined the fun.

Madara did his best not to thrash as he was stretched, an effort made difficult by Tobirama continuing to lavish his skin with kisses and sharp nips the entire time. He could barely remember the last time he got laid let alone when he might have had a partner who made him feel this good. As the third finger slid inside and sank deep he whined, the sound of it echoing off the tiled walls and bouncing back to him. _So close_ to where he wanted it but always missing it by just a little. It was deliberate, he could tell that by the amusement in the eyes still watching him in the mirror, and he had no idea how much more he could take before he broke down and shouted for the other to just fuck him already.

Luckily he didn’t have to wait too much longer. Or rather, he was lucky Tobirama decided to grant him a little treat.

The sound that tore up out of him when three fingers curled up to impact his prostate for the first time was indescribable – and loud. Neither of them found it in them to care, however. Madara was too busy seeing stars and Tobirama was clamping teeth in to his shoulder, suddenly twice as eager to get inside him properly, imagining him making those sounds around a cock in his ass.

“I swear to god Senju if you don’t get your shit in gear I’m gonna take things in to my own hands and you can go have fun by yourself!” The words were difficult to get out, breathless as he was. Behind him, Tobirama tutted in mock disapproval.

“Well that’s not very nice.” He didn’t sound like he was having an easy time catching his breath either. “Ask a bit more politely and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“Oh _fuck you_ ,” Madara hissed. Then his entire body jerked and clenched as long fingers pressed up against his prostate again.

“I think we can both tell you’d rather I fuck you.”

Madara could do nothing but pant in response. He caught Tobirama’s eyes in the mirror yet again and was trapped, unable to look away from that mocking yet somehow still fond smirk.

“Say please,” Tobirama whispered in his ear. For a moment he considered fighting it. Then the fingers inside him pulled away just to sink in again and pride flew out the window; he _wanted_ this.

“Please,” he gasped. “God, please. Please fuck me.”

Instead of actual words Tobirama’s response was desperate noise that sounded more like “Hnngg!”

With one more teasing press against his prostate, Madara felt the fingers inside him retreat and leave him feeling much too empty. He wriggled impatiently as his partner coated himself with oil, only falling still when he felt a light reprimanding tap on his ass before two thumbs were pulling his cheeks apart, displaying his stretched entrance for the viewing pleasure of the one behind him. Feeling sultry and a little playful, Madara leaned down until his weight rested on his elbows just to make the picture better for his partner.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he heard Tobirama murmur. There was no time to reply, though.

It felt a little like dying as a blunt cockhead slowly pushed in to him at long last, but only in the sense that he thought he might have died and gone to heaven. Tobirama was big, bigger than he expected, and the stretch of first entry burned a little bit. He loved it. Despite his partner trying to be gentle, Madara rolled his hips to try and get more, faster, deeper.

All he received for his efforts was another swat to the bottom and Tobirama telling him not to be stupid. Apparently the younger man was concerned about hurting him, which was nice and all, but unnecessary.

It seemed to take forever until finally Tobirama bottomed out. He hunched over Madara’s back and allowed them both a brief moment just to savor the feeling. Then he straightened up and pulled out all in one smooth motion just to sink back in with a wicked snap of his hips. Madara’s howl was muffled only by the pale hand that flew around to cover his mouth.

Talking became impossible after that. Merely stringing enough syllables together to form a coherent word would have been too much for either of them. Tobirama braced himself on both of the hips before him and set up a punishing rhythm, rolling his pelvis and sinking in as deep as possible every time. Madara only just barely managed to unclench the fingers of one hand from the edge of the counter so that he could hold them over his own mouth to muffle the screams he was producing with every thrust. It felt so good his head was actually spinning, making him dizzy with pleasure.

Unsurprisingly, it was over much too soon. The tension between them had been there so long and by the time they actually got down to fucking Madara had already been much too close to the edge. It was no surprise then when he felt tension gathering in his body; the tensing of his thighs, the tingle down his spine – even his toes were starting to curl. With some effort his managed to drag in just enough air to drop his hand and gasp out a warning.

“I’m gonna cum,” he breathed, voice low and desperate and so far away. “Oh – god – I’m gonna cum!”

Behind him, Tobirama swore heatedly and picked up the pace. Unable to concentrate long enough to bring his hand back up to his mouth, Madara’s cries rang out around them, echoing off the walls. His fingers curled against the porcelain counter top, clawing at it fruitlessly as he fought for just a few more seconds, just a few more thrusts.

When he fell over the edge it was with a scream, loud and broken, flying higher than he could ever remember being in his entire life. Tobirama viciously bit off a string of epithets over his shoulder but Madara didn’t hear a word of it. His body spasmed uncontrollably as he spilled himself against the counter front without ever having even been touched, legs threatening to collapse and held in place only by his partner’s hands.

Tobirama fucked him straight through his orgasm and showed no mercy as he came down from his high. As the world around him came back in to focus Madara trembled where his chest had folded down over the sink, giving off pitiful whines as the pleasure in his ass burned too bright, too good. He didn’t want it to stop though. Even just this he wished could last forever, especially when Tobirama’s grunts began to steadily rise in pitch until he sounded as though he were reaching for something just out of his grasp, thrusting frantically with his fingers digging in like Madara’s skin was the only thing keeping him from flying apart.

“Please…”

Only after the word was out did Madara realize it was him who had spoken. He wasn’t precisely sure what it was he was asking for but it didn’t matter; that one word was apparently all Tobirama needed.

Unlike Madara, his younger lover made no obnoxious noises as he came. It was more of a sudden exhalation of all the air in his chest as his face twisted in to a grimace of ecstasy Madara could only see the edges of from his bent position. He did feel the moment Tobirama tensed and went still, as well as the warmth as his passage was filled with another man’s seed. Both made him shudder in delighted satisfaction even as he felt his body melting, almost sliding off the counter now that there was no forward inertia to push him back up.

“Holy fuck,” Tobirama whimpered from somewhere above him. Madara grunted in agreement.

“Do me a favor and carry me to bed.”

“Hah. No. I don’t think my legs could carry an empty cardboard box right now. _Shit_ you’re tight.”

Ridiculously, Madara felt himself flushing. “And you are heavy. Let me up.”

“No one’s stopping you from getting up,” Tobirama teasing, circling his hips gently and then stopping when the motion made himself gasp instead of his target. Madara chuckled.

It took a few more minutes before either of them actually worked up the energy to straighten and separate themselves to clean up. Madara quivered nearly from head to toe when Tobirama pulled out of him only to press a single finger back inside his sticky, distended hole, murmuring in his ear how good it had felt to be inside him. Flustered, he called the other man filthy and told him to fetch a towel or something for him to clean off with.

They dressed in a comfortable silence, Madara straightening Tobirama’s hair while the younger man buttoned his shirt for him. Before he knew it he was being pressed back against the sink again as Tobirama kissed him like he might never have another opportunity to do so. When he finally found air again he looked up at his partner curiously.

“What was that for?”

“I just…felt like it.” Despite the cocky smile there was a telltale dusting of pink on the tips of Tobirama’s ears that Madara couldn’t help but find adorable.

“Hmph,” was all he said in response. It earned him another kiss.

Although he’d never thought of himself as a particularly romantic man, Madara couldn’t think of a single protest when Tobirama leaned in to press their foreheads together, staring in to each other’s eyes in utter silence for a few minutes. It was actually quite nice to just stand there all wrapped up in each other’s arms like that.

“So,” Tobirama broke the quiet at last. “If I could by chance procure an extra ticket to my next game would you possibly be interested in attending?”

“Would I have to sit next to Rainbow Boy and his flag?” Madara grinned when his partner laughed.

“Negotiable.”

“Ah. I suppose I could think about it.”

“I mean”–Tobirama shrugged with forced casualness–“I could always use a little more luck.”

Madara might not be the smartest individual but even he could read between the lines to see what he had just been offered. His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. “I thought that little ritual was reserved for Hashirama.”

“I said _more_ luck. It couldn’t hurt for both of you to wish me luck, could it?”

“Well if that’s how it is then I suppose I’m pretty much obligated to come. A hardship, but I’ll manage somehow.”

Grinning, Tobirama ducked in for one more slow, deep kiss. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he offered in a rumbling whisper.

They could have stood there all day getting lost in each other, trading soft kisses and soppy looks. And they would have too if not for the three sharp raps on the door that nearly scared them both out of their skin. The two of them blinked at each other before turning to stare at the door with wide, horrified eyes.

“Uhm…hello?” Madara ventured. It was Mito’s voice that floated through to them.

“Since it appears you two are done in there, if you would be so good as to rejoin us I would very much appreciate it. I’m running out of excuses to distract Hashirama with to cover for you. _Working things out_ can only be said in so any different ways before he understands what you’re really doing up here.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. As soon as she had finished speaking they could hear the carpet-hushed beat of her high-heeled shoes walking away. Slowly they looked back at each other to see they were wearing identical expressions of trepidation.

The horror of Hashirama discovering them was enough to chase them out of the bathroom in less than five seconds flat – but it was not enough to stop them from holding hands as they hurried down the stairs.


End file.
